I’m Zachary Zane, a sex writer, author, and ethical Boyslut (a fancy way of saying I sleep with a lot of people, and I’m very, very open about it). Over the years, I’ve had my fair share of sexual experiences, dating and sleeping with hundreds of people of all genders and orientations. In doing so, I’ve learned a thing or two about navigating issues in the bedroom (and a bunch of other places, TBH). I’m here to answer your most pressing sex questions with thorough, actionable advice that isn’t just “communicate with your partner” because you know that already. Ask me anything—literally, anything—and I will gladly Sexplain It.
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Dear Sexplain It,
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I live for the shame that comes with sex. I love feeling dirty, but worry I’m inadvertently hurting my sense of self-worth. Last night I relished covering my face in cum from cruising in an adult arcade parking lot. During the act, at least three cop cars drove by our public spectacle, hidden only by a patchy oleander bush. The fear, adrenaline, and willingness to sacrifice my clean record for a man whose name I would never know brought an overwhelming ecstasy I could not get any other way.
When I went home, I finished lesson plans for the next day and kissed my (male) partner and dog as if nothing had happened. (We have a don’t ask, don’t tell agreement.) My recklessness alarms me, and there is real risk involved. I’m a high school English teacher, and no one knows the extent of my appetite. After a night of debauchery, I end up pendulating between extremes of shame and self-acceptance. Is it possible to have one without the other? Is this healthy? How do I prevent my feelings of shame from impacting my sense of self-worth? Forgive me for all the questions, and perhaps there is no answer, but any advice is appreciated as I navigate a world of pleasure and pain.
— Shameful Miscreant
Dear Shameful Miscreant,
It’s perfectly healthy to “love feeling dirty.” Countless people are aroused by shame, embarrassment, and degrading sex acts; just ask any professional dominatrix. The eroticization of shame can even be therapeutic, especially for sexually marginalized folks. I’ve had sex with—and I’m not exaggerating here—hundreds of gay and bi men who love being called the F-word during sex. When you eroticize a word that’s been hurled at you as an insult, it loses its power to hurt you.
Given that you “live for the shame that comes with sex,” I have a sense that you understand this already. So what’s really impacting your self-worth? It doesn’t sound like it’s the actual sex you’re having, nor are you closeted, or breaking the rules of your open relationship. I think the real cause of your internal turmoil is how you’re practicing your shame kink: in a way that could potentially ruin your life.
You say it yourself: It’s your recklessness that alarms you—not your kink itself. You know how much you’re jeopardizing when you have sex in public with cop cards driving by—and still, you’re doing it. The shame you feel about your recklessness is separate from the shame that turns you on, but you’ve conflated the two. I’m all for you leaning into your shame kink, but I think you need to listen to the part of you that’s saying, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to do this in public where I can get caught.
Start having your kinky “shameful” sex behind closed doors, which isn’t that challenging in the era of gay hookup apps. On Sniffies, people host orgies, blowbangs, and cum dumps daily, depending on where you live. You could also try a video store, gay sauna, or gay sex party. Plus, I wrote an article about how to recreate the adrenaline rush of public sex, without the risk of getting arrested. Check it out. There are a lot of wild, sexual, “shameful” things you can do that are both safe and extremely arousing. The best part is that these things won’t get you fired or land you in jail.
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